


Know Me Better

by pennysparkle



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Gender Issues, Genderfluid Character, Other, Self-Acceptance, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 00:25:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5949040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennysparkle/pseuds/pennysparkle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New places never quite managed to sit well with Souji, no matter how long ago now he’d gotten used to moving. It was an intangible thing, and it wasn’t like it was anybody’s fault, or perhaps it was that he was too kind-natured to place blame. But there was something fundamentally cruel about not having a home—not even the place where he’d grown up. At times it left him breathless and grasping for some kind of foothold, some kind of place where he could just be himself, where he didn’t feel off balance, half right and half wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Know Me Better

**Author's Note:**

> for a friend!

New places never quite managed to sit well with Souji, no matter how long ago now he'd gotten used to moving. It was an intangible thing, and it wasn't like it was anybody's fault, or perhaps it was that he was too kind-natured to place blame. But there was something fundamentally cruel about not having a home—not even the place where he'd grown up. At times it left him breathless and grasping for _some_ kind of foothold, some kind of place where he could just be himself, where he didn't feel off balance, half right and half wrong.

He didn't think Inaba would be it. Already he was breaking too many of his own rules here, making friends and trusting them, opening up to them with seemingly no consequences for the time being. But they were lingering on the horizon; they _had_ to be. There was no way he was going to get attached without having to pay the price later, and there was _definitely_ no way he was going to get to be himself. Besides, he hadn't even tried to pack different clothes, a wig, makeup. It all stayed carefully locked away in his closet at his parent's house, where he might get them out a couple times a month when the need became too much, and marvel, his heart beating firm in his chest to see what looked back at him from the mirror. _Right_. But never for long.

Here in Inaba, he tried to feel like a part of himself wasn't missing. Those things didn't make him who he was, but it helped, at times, to see what he felt like in physical form. And he felt that strange longing, no matter how much he tried to push it down. He'd see the fall of Yukiko's long hair down her back, and picture the way his hair could look just like that with extensions clipped in—a veil of silver, sleek and perfect. Or Ai's make-up, crisply done, and he'd catch himself wondering if he was still as good at applying eyeliner as he'd been before.

Or, sometimes, when he, Yosuke, and Kanji made it out to Okina, he'd linger at storefronts, looking at the skirts and flowing blouses in the windows and wondering what they'd look like on him. By now, he knew the kinds of things he liked wearing, and a repressed part of himself longed to feel fabric that slipped through his fingers, soft and cool and ready to be ruffled by breeze.

"Man... it'd be cool to go on a date with a girl who dressed like that, huh?" Yosuke sighed wistfully from beside him. His fingers clenched like a fist, brows dipping down as he imagined it, a dreamy smile on his face.

Souji felt his own crumple a little, but he forced it back together in a split second. As much as Yosuke was his best friend, he just couldn't confide in him about this. So it was easier to smile and nod, but say nothing, and go on their way.

It hurt, somehow. As time went on, he felt the same way as he always had before: that no matter who he was, and no matter how sure of it, that having to force it all down felt like he was stunting himself. And it wasn't that he hated the way he was now—it was just that some part was missing, and trying to fill it in might be something he could never come back from.

Later he might have regretted being so close to something that felt so right, knowing that he couldn't have it. He might have thought, just for the shortest of moments, about going back and trying it on to see if the way the fabric draped over him would be as pleasing as he imagined it to be. But he didn't, and instead went back to the frustrating grind of not being able to see what he felt in the mirror, the cycle endlessly repeating.

* * *

Being with Kanji was different than being with Yosuke, and sometimes Souji felt bad for needing his reassuring, surprisingly calm presence instead of Yosuke's chaotic conspiration. Besides, there was something between them that maybe only Souji felt, some kind of kinship. If there was anybody that might understand him at this point in time, it was Kanji.

It felt too personal so far to spend time at each other's houses, so much of it was spent either at the gazebo overlooking town, or, when the mood struck, in Okina. Kanji liked the shops that sold stuffed toys, and the craft shops that specialized in sewing materials. As for Souji, he somehow always managed to end up in front of the same store, looking hesitantly and wantingly at the same outfits.

"You got somebody you want to buy that for, senpai?" Kanji asked from beside him, bag rustling in the breeze. "You keep looking at it lately."

"I just think it looks nice," said Souji after a short moment of hesitation.

Kanji's voice didn't come out judgmental or questioning. It was something to be thankful for. "Oh... yeah, it's pretty cute."

Souji smiled at him. This didn't have to be anything more than it was—just Souji, wistful for what he could have, if only he weren't so afraid. There was no need to involve Kanji.

Only Kanji scratched at his head, tilted upward consideringly. "I think I saw something like that in one of my mom's pattern books."

"Cool."

"Doesn't seem that hard to make. It might be interesting to try, but it's hard to get somebody to model it, y'know? I always feel embarrassed asking for it..."

Souji could feel how serious his own face was as he spoke, and he could feel too the way terror wrenched at his insides, that Kanji might laugh in his face, that he might _know_ , even though none of that made any sense at all. "I could do it."

Kanji's eyes were wide as he looked at him, but then he grinned. "Hey, thanks, senpai. I can always count on you to help out, huh? It'd really give me something new to practice with."

He felt guilty, knowing that where Kanji thought _he_ was the one receiving help, it was Souji underhandedly wrangling a favor from him. It almost made him change his mind right then and there, but he _wanted_ this. Just a few moments of this, and he'd be able to make it through the rest of the year without boiling over, without feeling like he'd lost touch completely and utterly with who he wanted to be.

"We'll have to pick out fabric," Kanji said, drawing Souji out of his silence. "Since you're gonna be my model, you can help with that."

Souji nodded, and tried not to let nervousness overtake him at the thought of what might soon be bared.

* * *

Tentatively, a rhythm formed between them, each Thursday after school spent in Kanji's room, Souji first being measured with a level of scrutiny that bordered on too intimate for comfort, after which Kanji traced the pattern and cut the fabric, and finally, Souji was stood in front of the mirror with Kanji behind him. They were each assessing the fabric draped and pinned over him, not yet sewn together and rough around the edges to prove it, but it wasn't bad. In fact, it sent a small thrill through Souji, made him smile, fingertips trailing over the delicate cream fabric they'd chosen for the blouse, then straightening over the skirt.

"Does it look good to you?" Kanji asked, a couple extra pins held between his teeth in case something needed to be altered. "Does it feel okay?"

"It's good," said Souji. He felt so light inside, as light as the gauzy feel of the blouse, as light as the cotton of the skirt when he shifted.

"Yeah. I think so too." Kanji smiled at him in the mirror, and that made Souji all the lighter—made it so that when he spoke next, he did so without a thought toward any repercussion.

"What if... what if I liked this kind of thing?" Souji blurted, and then clarified further, even though none of the words could really explain it. It wasn't about the skirt—it was about how someone might look at him like this, the same way he looked at _himself_ , and not see a boy, but someone completely different. Someone in between, and perfectly happy about it. "What if it felt right to me?"

Kanji shrugged his shoulders, but there wasn't a look of disgust at all on his face, so Souji figured this wasn't a bad reaction. "I'm not the kinda guy to ask about that... I mean, you know my hobbies and all that. People think I'm pretty weird. But... I dunno. No matter what you like, you're still my senpai."

Relief caused Souji to sag a little, but Kanji grinned, apparently not done talking.

"Besides, it's gonna look cute on you, senpai. I'll make sure of it."

* * *

Souji kept waiting in terror for everyone to somehow find out about what it was he and Kanji were up to on their Thursdays in, but two weeks passed in silence, and somehow, it was an enjoyable secret to keep when it wasn't terrifying. Something special, just for he and Kanji, in a newfound tiny space where he thought he might actually be comfortable.

The skirt, blush-pink and silky, was finished first, and Souji swirled it a little as he looked at himself once again in the mirror. Kanji had even gone the extra mile and gotten tights for him, black ones that made his legs look long and perfect, all the more convincing. It was stunning in a way, to see himself like this. He'd been waiting so long.

"Do you like it, senpai?" Kanji asked, seated in front of the sewing machine as he worked on the blouse. There was a nervous tension to his shoulders, stiff and drawn up high, as if he thought Souji wouldn't.

But he'd never let him think that. "I like it," he said, smiling at himself and finding that the image of him, in his uniform button-up, with short hair and no makeup, wearing a skirt and tights, wasn't all that terrible. It felt right, too. As right as his school uniform and boyish lounge clothes sometimes did, and as right as something perfectly feminine was.

Then he smiled at Kanji too. The dive into something more serious wasn't as terrifying this time, but he still felt a strange skip in his heart as he spoke. "Last time we talked, I started to worry I hadn't given you the right impression."

"Huh?"

"I mean... it's not about the clothes or anything. But they help, sometimes." It sounded a little foolish to his own ears, and he could feel heat creeping on the back of his neck, too afraid to look Kanji in the eye just yet.

Kanji hummed, his fingers effortlessly guiding the fabric into the machine. "That makes sense."

"It's... it's just. I don't feel like a guy all the time. But I'm not always like a girl either. I feel... somewhere in between. One more than the other, sometimes."

He nodded without judgment, and Souji's heart surged just a little. It wasn't fair; Souji had never really voiced this to anyone, and he'd spent so long being afraid that this was too uncomfortable a part for anyone to accept, and here Kanji was, acting like it _wasn't_ something to be ashamed or afraid of. Like he was normal, and worth listening to without doubt.

"No matter who you are, I'm gonna support you. You got that, senpai? Anyone gives you shit, and you just give me the word."

"I don't think _that_ would be necessary. But thank you."

Souji felt light as he clutched the fabric between his fingers, feeling what Kanji had given him. It was more than a skirt, more than acceptance. Maybe it was the strength he couldn't always muster himself.

* * *

A week passed between when the skirt was finished, and when Kanji finally pronounced the ensemble complete. Souji couldn't pretend he wasn't excited for the few hours between lunchtime and when he could finally follow Kanji back to his house, or that he hadn't anticipated the moment, but what he found when he ascended the steps to Kanji's bedroom at the end of the day was almost too much.

"Uh, so..." Kanji started from in front of him, embarrassment and anxiety obvious in the way he rubbed his palms against the legs of his pants. "I, uh... thought I might get you some more things. But if you don't want it, that's okay. I wasn't really... sure."

Souji's breath was held as he looked at the outfit that hung on the closet door. The skirt was the same as before, but the pleats were crisply ironed this time. It was still paired with tights, as well, tucked inside of a pair of soft brown boots with just a sliver of a heel. Above the skirt was the blouse, dotted with tiny brass buttons shaped like kittens, and a necklace hanging from a long chain, with another cat upon it. A package of extensions, the same silver color as his hair. Makeup. This was far more than he'd asked for. More than he could ever _hope_ for.

"Am I overstepping it...?" Kanji asked nervously, his eyes on Souji so sincere and so unknowingly _perfect_ in what he expressed. He cared so much more than Souji could believe. It still stunned him.

He didn't know what to do. He was smiling, he could feel it, and in the span of a single breath, he'd wrapped his arms around Kanji's shoulders and hugged him, tight enough to squeeze the breath from him. "Thank you."

Kanji laughed, a burst of sound like he was releasing all of that anxiety as he rubbed his hand against Souji's back, utterly gentle. "Hey, no problem, senpai."

For a few seconds that felt like minutes, Souji stayed where he was, arms tight around Kanji. He was so kind, so warm, not just in how he felt, but in how he acted. Everything he did exuded a caring that no one would have expected from a face like that, but Souji had always known better. He'd never met anyone quite like Kanji, no one that had ever been so effortlessly accepting and supportive, and he didn't think he was strange for liking him, just a little bit. It wasn't strange to want to be around him, to smile because of him, to make _him_ want to smile too. But it was too much to bring up right now.

"Why don't you try it on?" Kanji asked when Souji had finally pulled back, his face aglow with happiness.

He nodded and turned away, and Kanji stepped out of the room. When the door closed, he assessed the outfit for a few seconds, finding it almost too perfect to disturb. But then he began to dress himself, taking time to ensure every fold lay right, adjusting it a few times in the mirror before he pulled on the boots and clipped in the extensions. After that came makeup, which he felt a little out of practice with, but which came out looking soft and gentle in the end, even if it wasn't perfect.

He saw himself anew, and felt like this was the part of him that had been missing—the part that had hurt to ignore. Now it felt right. What he saw in the mirror slotted perfectly into place inside of him, and he breathed a deep sigh of relief. One last time, he checked himself in the mirror, and then opened the door to allow Kanji in.

Already he was gaping a little, his face flushed, but he laughed when Souji performed a curtsey for him. "It looks good on you, senpai."

"Thank you," said Souji, and he felt an ache by his heart at the knowledge that he might not ever be able to say just how much this meant to him. "For all of it."

"I told ya, it's no problem." Kanji was embarrassed and pleased, though, and that felt endearing, somehow.

The image of himself in the mirror was hard to turn away from every time Souji saw it, but it wasn't anything compared to how he felt now, looking at Kanji. Kanji, who had thought of himself as a weak link, who thought he'd had to hide who he was. They weren't all that different, were they? Except that Kanji had let the world see him in the end. And it had all been because of _them_ —because they'd supported him, because he felt encouraged enough that he wasn't scared anymore.

Souji wondered if Kanji knew that this was what he'd done for him, too. That his support felt so good that he wondered for a little while if he didn't _have_ to hide it.

"You look happy, senpai," Kanji said, his face softening as they watched each other. It was frightening too, to let someone in so close. Closer even than Yosuke, or any of the rest of the investigation team. But Kanji wasn't so scary. For the way he looked, at times it felt like he was the softest one out of all of them.

"I am happy," said Souji. "All because of you."

Kanji's face got brighter, and he stuttered a little when he tried to speak. "C-c'mon... it's not that big of a deal."

"It _is_ ," Souji said fiercely. "Without you, I'd never..."

He couldn't force it out, but his eyes felt heated and intense as he looked at Kanji, who relented within a few seconds.

"Well... it's not a big deal to me. I owe ya more than you'll ever know, senpai. It's the least I can do to return the favor."

Souji came in close one last time to hug Kanji, squeezing him a little more gently this time, so as not to take the breath out of him, and everything about this felt so keenly right that he could only sigh and nestle in closer than he probably should have. But Kanji didn't push him away. He never had.

Maybe someday he'd be able to tell him how much it meant, and maybe someday he'd have the courage to say what he felt. But for now, he comforted himself with having someone who knew his secret, and who had never said anything bad for it. It felt better than anything he'd ever known before, one less increment of fear, and all because of Kanji.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr!](http://bunansa.tumblr.com)


End file.
